Nobody Gets The Girl (14 page)

The notion cheered him. He knew it would be
difficult, being near her again, knowing she wouldn't know him or
remember him even if she could see him. But there was something
grand in the mission, something bigger than himself. Now that he'd
found a purpose in life, the death flirtations he'd entertained the
night before vanished.

It was Sunday morning. He snatched a paper
from a newsstand near the Amtrak station. He was a little
disappointed to find that Amtrak didn't go to Asheville. He hopped
aboard a train bound for Charlotte, North Carolina, and decided
he'd figure out what to do once he got there.

The train was nearly empty. He took a window
seat in one of the nicer cars and turned to his paper while he
waited for the train to depart.

On page four of the world news section, he
found a story about Rail Blade and Rex Monday. The broadcast had
been seen around the world, apparently, but the spin was that it
had all been a hoax, a prank by some kid studying broadcast
engineering out in California.

Of greater interest was an accompanying
article entitled, "Who Is Rex Monday?" "Rex Monday," it turned out,
was a pun on Rex Mundi, Latin for "king of the world." Apparently,
U.S. intelligence forces believed Rex Monday to be a wealthy Arab,
intent on ending Jewish occupation of Jerusalem and turning the
city into his home base for the advancement of a worldwide jihad.
Richard read this news with interest, wondering why Dr. Know had
seemed unaware of this. Then he realized that this was most likely
disinformation designed by Dr. Know to advance his agenda. The
notion chilled him. Most people would easily swallow this story and
would support whatever steps were needed to put an end to Rex
Monday. He'd long suspected that most of the news put out by the
media was fiction, but seldom had he realized just how sinister
this fiction was. And what could he do to stop it? Write a letter
to the editor? He vowed to never read another newspaper. Best to
focus on the mission at hand. From now on, his whole world would be
Veronica.

TWO TRAINS AND three buses later, Richard
made it to Asheville. It was before dawn, and very cold. He walked
until he found a convenience store and looked over a map while he
sipped coffee. The clerk was talking to somebody on the phone and
never even looked in his direction.

It turned out he was very close to her house,
less than a mile away. He left the convenience store and climbed up
the bank behind it, then made a dash across the highway. It was
around 6 A.M., and the traffic wasn't too bad. He suspected that
cars would pass right through him, but why test these things? He
descended the bank on the other side of the highway and found
himself in an older neighborhood filled with small wooden houses.
He went to the nearest street corner, then pulled out the map to
orient himself. Asheville's neighborhoods weren't exactly laid out
on a grid. It was a mountain town, and the roads looped around like
a drunken man's scribbles.

He resumed walking once he had a good feel
for where he was and where he was going. The sun had risen now and
people were starting to leave their houses. The neighborhood was a
step down from where he had lived with Veronica. The houses were
packed together tightly on small lots, and many of them were in
poor repair.

At last, he reached the street she lived on.
Heading down it, he could see a school bus at the far end, moving
slowly up the street, stopping every few houses.

He studied the numbers on the doors and
mailboxes: 412, 414... 416 Courtland Street. He had arrived. As if
in welcome, the door to the house swung open.

Veronica stood in the doorway shouting, "The
bus is here."

He stood, glued to the sidewalk, as the bus
pulled up behind him.

Veronica was lovelier than he'd remembered.
Her hair was still the same bright red, her face still had the same
cute freckles. She was heavier now, curvier, but she carried her
weight well. She wore no makeup. She was wearing a robe with fuzzy
slippers and seemed very unconcerned that she was standing in an
open door where everyone could see her. This was so unlike the
fussy, vain woman who used to drive him crazy.

Her kids ran out the door. The little boy was
about seven, the girl about nine, and both had their mother's
freckles and red hair. They ran through him and leapt onto the
steps of the bus.

He took a step forward. Behind Veronica, he
could see someone else approaching, a man. Richard looked on with a
mix of jealousy, horror, and fascination as the man kissed
Veronica. He was a large, rough-looking guy, wearing blue coveralls
with his name on a patch. He looked like some kind of mechanic. His
hair was thin and poorly cut, and he looked as if he’d skipped
shaving for a few days.

"I don't believe it," said Richard.

The man passed by, heading for the beat-up
pickup truck in the tiny driveway. His name-badge said "Earl."

Richard went up the front steps as Veronica
closed the door. He stepped inside, ghosting through the door while
her hand was still on it, and said, "Hi honey, I'm home."

She walked across the living room into the
kitchen and poured herself a morning cup of coffee. The house
smelled of coffee and laundry detergent. It was tiny, half the size
of the house they had shared together. Richard leaned against the
counter and studied the woman who had once been at the center of
his life.

"I don't believe it," he said again. "You
look so... domestic. And so broke. Something sure did change your
priorities."

She picked up the phone and made a call.
Richard wandered through the house. There were clothes on the
floor. There were dishes in the living room. The only reading
material was a TV Guide. It wasn't as bad as Henry and Martha's
house. When he checked the shower tiles, they were squeaky clean.
But this was a far cry from the home he had shared with his former
wife.

No matter where he went in the house, he
could hear her phone conversation. She was talking to her mother.
It was bizarre to hear her talking, because she sounded happy and
relaxed. Veronica hated her mother. But now, even after three
minutes of talking, they hadn't started shouting at each other.
Weird.

"Yeah, we've got a bike on layaway down at
Kmart for Billy's birthday," she was saying. "He's going to be
thrilled."

"Sandy's doing better," she said, after a
pause. "I think that thing on her back has finally healed up."

Nobody dropped onto the couch. On the table
beside it were a half dozen picture frames. He picked up a family
photo, a few years old, of Veronica, Earl, Sandy, and Billy.

Billy was still a toddler in the photo. He
noted that Earl wasn't wearing a tie.

One frame held a montage of photos, mostly of
the children, many taken at the beach. One showed Veronica holding
Sandy. Veronica wore a two-piece bathing suit, and the way she was
standing made her her belly look pudgy and lumpy. Her thighs were a
little on the lumpy side as well. She wasn't fat, exactly, but
Nobody could tell that Veronica no longer did aerobics. He studied
the pictures and noticed that all of the ones of Veronica had
something in common. She was smiling. She was smiling like... like
nothing he'd ever seen before.

"Great," he said. "There it is. Proof. She's
happy. Happier than she ever was with me. All because I've never
been born."

He felt like he was trapped in a horrible
parody of
It's a Wonderful Life
. He imagined he would find
Veronica and her life would be a mess and he'd work invisibly to
make it better. Ten minutes into it, his plan to be a guardian
angel seemed less clear-cut. His own guardian angel wasn't proving
to be much of a role model.

Veronica finished her phone call and went
into the bathroom. She left the door open as she used the
toilet.

"Well," he said, sighing. "This has certainly
proven to be a mistake."

He got up from the couch and headed for the
back door. She came out from the bathroom and went back into the
kitchen, swinging open some doors to reveal a washer and dryer. He
went over and kissed her on the cheek.

"Bye," he said.

He ghosted out the back door.

That's when he found out about her dog.

The dog was a big, black, stocky one, who
growled the second Richard's foot hit the back porch. He froze as
the dog lunged toward him. The chain jerked the dog to a rapid,
slobber-spattering halt. The dog continued to bark maniacally.

"Christ," he said, his heart thumping. "Of
course I'd still be real to mean-tempered dogs."

Only the dog wasn't really facing him. It
seemed to be barking at something to the side of the house.

Richard peeked around the corner.

Inside the house, something crashed.

Veronica began to scream.

He ran back to the door. Unfortunately, no
one was near enough to it now for him to ghost through it. He
turned the knob. Nothing. He slammed his shoulder into it. It
popped open. He stumbled into the house, moving in the direction of
the screams.

In the living room, holding Veronica, were
the Panic and Pit Geek.

CHAPTER TWELVE

HALL OF MIRRORS

VERONICA KEPT SCREAMING.
Something in
her throat had torn from the force of air, and her screams now
ended with wet gurgles as she sucked in air to scream again. Blood
dripped from the corners of her mouth.

The Panic kept hold of her arms, pulling her
to him, forcing his face inches from hers. "You here, Nobody?"
Panic called into the air, while Nobody grabbed at his shoulders,
uselessly.

Pit Geek sat on the couch, his feet kicked up
on the coffee table. He chewed idly on a pencil, working it down to
just a nub with an eraser, as he watched the Panic. He flicked away
the eraser like the butt of a cigarette.

"Wonder if we got his attention yet?" said
Pit Geek.

The Panic spun Veronica around and clamped a
hand over her mouth to silence her.

"Hey, Nobody!" the Panic called out. "You
hear me?"

"Yes," said Nobody, his voice cracking with
frustration. "What do you want?"

The Panic gave no indication that he
heard.

"Maybe you should use the mask," said Pit
Geek.

"Hold her," said the Panic, shoving Veronica
in the direction of his partner. Pit Geek grabbed Veronica, pulling
her into his lap. He began to run his filthy fingers through her
hair. She clamped her eyes tight and grew silent, unable to even
draw a breath.

The Panic pulled what looked like a sock
knitted from silver thread from his pocket. He tugged it over his
head, masking his face, then looked around the room.

"Well what do you know," he said, as his gaze
fell on Nobody. "There really is an invisible man here."

"You see me?" said Nobody.

"Oh, yeah," said the Panic.

Nobody leapt forward. His hands clamped
around the Panic's throat, and he used his momentum to slam the
Panic into the wall. The Panic was just a kid, a foot shorter, and
a good fifty pounds lighter than Nobody. He struggled, pulling at
Nobody's arms, but Nobody couldn't be stopped. With sudden clarity,
Nobody realized that he was going to kill the Panic. All he needed
to do was continue squeezing and keep slamming the Panic's head
against the wall. He gritted his teeth and growled with rage.

"Nobody!" shouted Pit Geek. "Back off!"

Nobody looked over his shoulder. Pit Geek had
Veronica by the hair, pulling her head back. Pit Geek opened his
mouth, preparing to sink his yellow teeth into her exposed
throat.

Nobody jerked the Panic from the wall and
threw him toward the coffee table. The Panic toppled over the
table, landing on his chin on the carpet.

"Let her go," said Nobody.

Pit Geek paid him no attention, watching the
Panic instead as he stumbled back to his feet.

"Jesus, kid," said Pit Geek. "You're getting
your ass whipped by a ghost."

"Screw the boss," said the Panic, staggering
backwards until he came to rest against the far wall, steadying
himself. His right hand slipped into his waistband and came back
holding a small black pistol.

"You're dead meat, Nobody," he said, taking
aim. He pulled the trigger.

Nobody closed his eyes as the crack of the
shot deafened him. He flinched, expecting the impact. It didn't
come.

He opened his eyes.

The bullet hung in mid air before him, a
silvery cylinder frozen in time.

Next to the Panic, the window crashed inward,
glass shards flying around the room as a white-clad figure smashed
into the scene. It was the Thrill. She spun around in the air,
pointing to Pit Geek.

"Let her go!" she demanded.

Without the slightest hesitation, Pit Geek
closed his mouth around Veronica's throat. He raised his head,
grinning red, as blood spurted into the air.

The pistol flew from the Panic's hand and
landed near Nobody's feet. Rail Blade slid through the shattered
window, glancing toward the Panic. The silver hood flew from his
head as if jerked by an unseen hand and landed near the pistol.

Nobody dodged around the frozen bullet and
reached for the gun, grabbing the hood in the same motion. He fired
at Pit Geek. If the bullet struck, Pit Geek didn't react. Tears in
his eyes, Nobody leapt at the grinning bum.

"Ex—" said the Panic.

Nobody reached Pit Geek, and watched as his
hands passed through him.

The room vanished.

Nobody found himself staring into a
reflection of his reflection. The world had become an infinite hall
of mirrors, twisting and spinning. He found himself staring at the
bottom of his feet, the back of his head, into his nostrils.

Before he could comprehend what he was
seeing, he landed on a rubbery, pinkish floor.